Lucinda Breeding: A sugar-coated bump and grind

By the time you pick up today’s paper, millions will have
seen Katy Perry: Part of Me.

A big chunk of that audience will be tween girls.

So what, right?

Adults who take daughters, little sisters, young cousins and
nieces should think twice about what the pop music star’s Candy Land-style show
communicates to an audience that might soak up a very adult message, however
unintended that audience might be.

But the way Perry is branded and marketed shows every sign
of the tween audience — and younger — is a coveted demographic for retailers
who want to start training their buyers early.

Perry earned her first top 40 radio hit in 2008 with “I
Kissed a Girl.” (For those who never heard the song, the answer is yes, it’s
about a woman remembering her first sapphic dalliance. “I kissed a girl!” Perry
cheers, followed by “and I liked it!” She reminisces about the taste of the
other girl’s “cherry Chapstick” and admits that “us girls we are so magical,
soft skin, red lips so kissable.” Oh, and she mentions she has a boyfriend and
doesn’t want him to find out.

So Perry’s first song out of the chute wasn’t a naive ode to
childhood innocence.

Then there is the documentary — in 3-D, even — of Perry’s
road to Top 40 dominion. Even the trailer for the movie looks like the The
Nutcracker’s Land of the Sweets on steroids.

The iced, pink-and-blue palette began in earnest when Perry
performed in the music video for her 2010 hit “California Gurls” (featuring the
grand marshal of sensual seduction, Snoop Dog) on the album Teenage Dream.

The video looks like something Willy Wonka would make for
late-night Cinemax programming.

Perry prances through a candy forest, dressed in a tiny
minidress bedazzled with sweets, pink tights, lavender wig and candy necklace.
She minces across a Twizzler bridge. She frees wide-eyed women from their sugar
prisons — gum bubbles, blocks of green gelatin. They dress in stripper versions
of Brownie Girl Scout uniforms and literally eat a grumpy gingerbread man who
wears briefs. She lounges nude on a pink cotton candy cloud, batting eyelashes
and winking a glittery purple eyelid.

If the nudity and the cloud eating don’t make Perry’s
come-hither hint clear enough, the singer gives a long, coquettish lick to an
ice cream cone. Later, Perry leads the sugar and spice troupe in a sexy dance.
They all wear the “Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top” from the song’s lyrics. Instead
of plain bikinis, though, the dancers wear edibles — Perry wears cupcakes,
another wears peppermint discs

The lyrics are straight-up seduction: Cali girls are “so hot
we melt your popsicle,” promising “sex on the beach/We don’t like sand in our
stilettos/We freak in the jeep … Once you party with us, you’ll be fallin’ in
love.” Snoop Dog spins a rapid-fire verse about his favorite Cali lasses —
dressed in “teeny bikinis.” And the lone man in this scenario insists the party
won’t be over without touching, kissing and bun-squeezing.

It’s not the sexualized lyrics that make Perry a problematic
performer for children. Rock ’n’ roll is itself a euphemism for sex. Lyrics got
more brazen after the sexual revolution, and popular music has always
communicated the values of young people. Elvis with his jerking pelvis and all
that. Madonna’s entire persona is one of fearless, uncompromising female
sexuality. (Listen — really listen — to the lyrics of Madonna’s “Borderline”
and you’ll find the entire song alludes to sexual pleasure.)

Children have listened to music about sex and love for a
long time, and until puberty, many children don’t pick up on the suggestions of
raw sexuality.

What makes Perry a conundrum for parents, feminists and
cultural conservatives is her packaging. Never before has a sexy siren been
aimed so blatantly at prepubescent audience.

It’s true that the flirty gestures, sparkling costumes and
pastel wigs attract gay audiences and drag queens, but the Rainbow Brite
aesthetic is clearly a banner hung out to catch the eyes of little girls. The
next time you go to a big-box retail store, look for the aisles of pink and
purple. Get closer and notice the cheap plastic gemstones. The glitter. The
Disney Princess merchandise.

Katy Perry is a junior version of the Pussycat Dolls, an
all-female bump-and-grind Vegas act and recording group. The short shorts, the
push-up bras, braids and high heels are vintage burlesque.

Even the video for Perry’s “Last Friday Night” suggests a
girl young enough to wear orthodontic headgear gets drunk, poses for racy
pictures and wakes up in her middle school bedroom with a strange man in her
bed.

The pop star was recruited to record a version of her 2008
song “Hot n Cold” with Elmo on Sesame Street. The clip never aired, even though
it was tame.

Katy Perry won’t corrupt innocent girls, to be sure. But her
brand doesn’t help the mixed messages young people are already getting about
sex. And for girls in particular, Perry is carrying on the message that for
them to be accepted or normal, they should perform as if their sexuality is
fully developed instead of vulnerable.

Perry seems to have passed up any opportunity to advise her
biggest fans about how to be positive about sex while also being spiritually
whole and emotionally healthy (Perry grew up in a strict Pentecostal home
before she shot whipped cream out of her bra on MTV and the Internet). She
could speak to the huge differences between sexual performance and sexual
relationships.

For the time being, Perry’s pushing ear candy in a color
scheme to match while wearing garter belts and stockings.

DentonRC.com is now using Facebook Comments. To post a comment, log into Facebook and then add your comment below. Your comment is subject to Facebook's Privacy Policy and Terms of Service on data use. If you don't want your comment to appear on Facebook, uncheck the 'Post to Facebook' box. To find out more, read the FAQ .